Never Let Go
by where-my-heart-resides
Summary: ONESHOT. HxHr. They say... they say that he killed himself. But I know. I killed him. SUICIDE WARNING!


Hi ya. Just read. Thanks. Oh yeah, and this is HxHr.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

WARNING: Contains suicide.

NOTICE: This is dedicated to Russell. Get better soon! They won't even let us come visit you! We really miss you! Oh yeah, and if you _ever_ try something like that again, I will castrate you.

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"Hermione!" Ron calls as he walks through my door. I walk down the stairs. Ron gapes. I must look a mess. My hair is held up in an extremely messy bun. I'm wearing pajama pants that are about ten sizes too large, and a gigantic T-shirt with stains all down the front.

"Hermione..." He breaths. I look down at the floor. He must be really worried about me. I don't really care. He puts a box down on the floor. I flinch when an echoing thunk spreads throughout my house.

"These are for you." He says. I can tell just by the way his voice cracks. They're things of Harry's. I don't reply.

"You know... Hermione, it's been a few weeks now. We need to know what happened. You were the only one there. Please. Please tell me Hermione." He says.

Yeah, it's the truth. I was there when Harry died. Actually, I was the one who killed him. I told them that. Over and over. But they wouldn't believe me. They say... they say that he killed himself. But I know. I killed him.

I walk over to the box that Ron's placed on my floor. I sit beside it, not even bothering to walk to the couch. I pick up a book. It looks like a photo album. I open it.

There, staring up at me, are Harry's parents. And there's Sirius, smiling happily. Pictures of baby Harry soon fill the pages. I can tell from the frayed edges of the pages, and the finger prints across the glossy covers, that Harry had spent a lot of time looking in this photo album. And soon, baby Harry has disappeared from the pages.

Now, older Harry has taken over. As well as Ron and I. We're smiling up from each page. Not a care in the world. And then, Ron fades from the pictures. It's now just Harry and I. These must be from after we fell in love. I finger each carefully, letting the glossy paper slip beneath my fingers. Harry looks so happy. It was a look that I rarely saw. Most of the time, his eyes were dark with worry, his hair limp with exhaustion. In these pictures, his hair drifts gently into his face, each soft strand standing out, and his eyes sparkle with mischief and joy. I miss that look. As I gaze at one photo in particular, I'm reminded of when it was taken.

_Flashback_

"Hermione?" Harry asks, as we walk around the lake. I pause for a moment before I answer him.

"Yeah?" He squeezes my hand lightly.

"Things are about to change. And I want you to promise me something."

"What is it?"

"Please, Hermione. Never let go of my hand." This request strikes me as odd, and I think for a second before I reply.

"I promise."

_End Flashback_

I close the photo album. Ron has joined me on the floor by now. I don't say anything. Neither does he. I pick up the next thing in the box. It's a tiny, glass raindrop. I gave it to him. I hold onto it tightly. I stare into it, and my blueish reflection stares back at me. And with that, I'm shoved into a flashback.

_Flashback_

"Come on!" I say, running. I'm smaller, but faster than Harry is. Our hands are clasped together. I'm running, trying to get him to go faster. We're being chased by death eaters. We need to go. But Harry's tired. He just got done fighting, and his body is weighed down with jinxes and hexes. But we need to keep running. Rain is falling. Harder and harder, striking my bare arms with a brutal force. Our bodies are soaked.

My brain doesn't register at first when Harry falls. I hear his call of "Umph!" and I hear mud squishing as he hits the ground. All I know is that I need to keep running. But I'm still holding his hand. I promised him that I wouldn't let go. I kneel beside him.

"Come on! Let's go!" I say, urging him to rise. He looks at me, a great deal of pain in his eyes.

"I can't... My leg..." This isn't happening. We can't be stuck here. He squeezes my hand harder.

"Please... Hermione... Please stay with me..." I look into his eyes. Full of desperation.

I look behind him. Death eaters are visible now, running through the rain, coming closer and closer. I'm suddenly filled with an unimaginable fear. I take one last look at Harry, and I do the one thing that I never thought I would do. I let go of his hand.

I try not to look back as I run. But his cries of "Hermione!" don't escape my ears. But I keep running. Running. The rain begins to fall even harder. But however hard the rain is falling, it's nothing compared to the rate of the tears that are running down my face.

_End Flashback_

I drop the little glass structure. Glass shatters all over the ground. But no, Harry did not die. Harry lived through that. Somehow.

I pick up the next item in the box. A knife. Beautiful carvings trace the edge of it's handle. And scratched messily into the wood handle is _Harry Potter_. Remember how I said that I killed him? Well, here's how.

_Flashback_

We're standing outside in the moonlight. Harry's been really distant and strange for a while. I can't figure it out. He still talks to me, but his eyes tell me that he's somewhere else. He looks at me.

"Hermione, there's something you need to know. I'm going to kill myself tonight." He says, rather bluntly.

"What? Don't joke." I say, angered at his attitude.

"I'm not." He says. His words hit me like a thousand pound weight. I can think of only one thing to say.

"Why?" He's silent for a moment. Then he speaks.

"Do you remember... that night with the death eaters?" I nod. He continues.

"Well, I realized something that night. I have nothing left to live for." I gape at him.

"A lot of things had hurt me in my life. But... that night... when you let go of my hand... that hurt the most. When I needed you more than ever before. Not to save me. Just to _be _with me. You left. You promised to never let go. And you left. Then, when you didn't look back as I called for you, I knew. There was no love here anymore. And although you might say there is, there isn't. It hurt. As I lay there, waiting to be tortured. I wasn't scared. I just knew that I wouldn't make it. Because I was always okay as long as you were there. But then, I was on my own. And I knew I would die. And I did. I died inside. Now it's time for my body to follow."

I'm crying. I'm shocked. I angry. At myself.

"You can't. I love you." I say, over and over. He shakes his head.

"I have to do it." And with that, he takes out a knife. In one swift motion, so fast that I can't stop him, he cuts both of his wrists. I scream softly. Tears are flowing quickly and rapidly down my face.

"Hermione... Do me one last favor." He says, not quite dead. I don't respond.

"Please... Hermione... Please stay with me..."

And I do. I grab his hand. His warm blood oozes onto my hand, but I don't let go. He closes his eyes, and his hand goes limp in mine. But I don't let go. I know he's gone... But part of me thinks that maybe, if I stay here long enough, he'll come back. Because as long as I'm with him, everything is supposed to be okay. But it's not. Because I killed him.

_End Flashback_

Do you see now? Why I won't tell anyone what happened? Why I'm sure I killed him, even though nobody else believes me.

I killed Harry Potter.

Ron is staring at me, but I don't pay any attention.

I clutch onto the knife, knowing that this is as close as I'll get to holding his hand. I told him that I'd never let go. And I won't.

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So, how was it? I hope it was good. I worked really hard on this one... R&R, and remember, flames are for arsonists!


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